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HERM AND I 







Herm and I 

BY 

MYRON B. GIBSON 

With Illustrations by 
H. NORAH FASSITT 



PHILADELPHIA 

Henry Altemus Company 


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Copyright, 1906, by Henry Altemus 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I 

Page 

Trapping on the Minnesota 13 

CHAPTER II 

A Cargo of Bear 35 

CHAPTER III 

Hide and Seek with Sioux 55 

CHAPTER IV 

Capturing a Fleet 75 

CHAPTER V 

Fun at the Fort 97 


[vii] 




ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

“ Throwing up his long arms he fell forward ” . Frontispiece 

“ On the banks of the Minnesota ” 15 

“We owned a neat birch-bark canoe” 19 

“ Herm was a famous cook ” . 23 

“ The old fellow squatted on his haunches ” 37 

“We lay close to the ground” 3g 

“ One of us swam on each side ” 43 

“ They quickened their stroke ” 57 

“Took deliberate aim ” 67 

“ The Indians had been thorough in their work ” . . 71 

“ Mother’s old rocking-chair ” . . . 77 

“ They bent down saplings ” . 87 

“A little cur sprang out” 89 

“ The whole five in a string ” g3 

“ Prepared for us a warm breakfast ” 101 

“ ‘ Hold on ! I’m no Indian ! ’ ” hi 

“ Thanks to that old bateau ” 113 

[ix] 



TRAPPING ON THE MINNESOTA 



Herm and I 

A Story of the Minnesota Massacre 


CHAPTER I 

TRAPPING ON THE MINNESOTA 

W HEN I was eight years old my 
father, with other hardy pioneers, 
settled on the banks of the Minne- 
sota River, in the edge of that 
great belt of hardwood timber known as “The 
Big Woods.” There were no railroads in Min- 
nesota then, and all things were wild and new. 
The settlers were nearly all poor, but the won- 
derfully fertile soil and the profusion of game 
and fish made it easy for an industrious man to 
feed his family well. No more happy and con- 
tented pioneers were ever settled in a new 
country. 

Our nearest neighbor was a German named 

[ 13 ] 




Herm and I 

A Story of the Minnesota Massacre 


CHAPTER I 

TRAPPING ON THE MINNESOTA 

W HEN I was eight years old my 
father, with other hardy pioneers, 
settled on the banks of the Minne- 
sota River, in the edge of that 
great belt of hardwood timber known as “The 
Big Woods.” There were no railroads in Min- 
nesota then, and all things were wild and new. 
The settlers were nearly all poor, but the won- 
derfully fertile soil and the profusion of game 
and fish made it easy for an industrious man to 
feed his family well. No more happy and con- 
tented pioneers were ever settled in a new 
country. 

Our nearest neighbor was a German named 

[ 13 ] 


' HERM AND 1 


Weisman, whose oldest boy, Herman, or 
“Herm,” as we called him, was my chum in 
those happy boyhood days. Of about the same 
age, we two were both very fond of outdoor 
life, and when not at work upon our fathers’ 
farms were sure to be off on some hunting or 
fishing expedition. 

With hard work, sufficient sport, and plenty 
of plain, wholesome food boys soon develop, 
and at the age of sixteen we were nearly men 
grown, and as hardy as Indians. We could 
handle a rifle or canoe with any one of the 
many young Sioux whom we met in our excur- 
sions. 

There were thousands of those warlike In- 
dians in Minnesota at that time. Outlying 
settlements often suffered from their depreda- 
tions ; but up to the time of which I write noth- 
ing like a general outbreak had occurred. 

After we were fourteen years old Herm and 
I were allowed to spend a month or six weeks 
each autumn trapping along the banks of 
[ 14 ] 


HERM AND I 


creeks and lakes emptying into the river above 
the settlements. Skins and furs found a ready 
sale at good prices, and the settlers depended 
as much upon their rifles and traps for ready 
money as upon the products of their farms. 



On the banks of the Minnesota ” 


Every boy, as soon as he was old enough to 
handle a rifle, was encouraged to become a 
good shot and a skilful trapper. 

Our yearly trapping excursion in the fall 
was the event to which we looked forward 
[ 15 ] 


HERM AND I 


with the liveliest anticipation. We worked 
early and late to get the fall work done, in 
order that we might start as soon as possible 
after the first hard frost, which gave lustre to 
the fur, and which usually comes in Minnesota 
about the first of October. 

The streams were seldom free of ice later 
than the middle of November, and as their 
freezing over interfered with our hunting, we 
worked very industriously at the fall plowing, 
which had to be finished before we could de- 
part. 

We owned in partnership a neat birch-bark 
canoe, which we used on all our trips. One 
of these shorter trips we usually took just after 
harvest, about the middle of August. Then, 
as the ground was too dry to plow and there 
was no other work to do, we went for a fort- 
night up the river. Deer-hunting was excel- 
lent at that season, the meat fat and juicy, the 
hides good, and we seldom failed to kill a dozen 
or two good bucks. 


[ 16 ] 


HERM AND I 


We cut the meat into long strips an inch or 
two in thickness, and strung them upon slim 
rods of willow or hazel. These, after salting 
the meat, we suspended three or four feet from 
the ground upon a scaffold of crotched sticks 
and poles. Under this we kept a small fire, 
by whose heat and smoke the meat would, in 
two or three days, become so well cured that 
it would keep a long time. 

Though we usually brought home a canoe- 
load of meat, and enough deerskins to pay us 
well for our time and labor, our main object on 
these early trips was to select the best grounds 
for trapping later in the autumn. We would 
paddle up every little creek to examine its 
banks, as well as the shores of small lakes and 
ponds, for signs of beaver and otter. 

In that latitude fur-bearing animals begin to 
make preparations for the winter as early as 
the first of September. The summer litter of 
young animals are then well grown. By the 
number of otter “slides” upon the banks and 
[ 17 ] 


HERM AND I 


the gnawing off of saplings around beaver 
ponds it was easy for us to determine where we 
should find the best trapping that season. So 
when the last “dead-furrow” was turned, which 
marked the close of the farm-work, we knew 
where to go with our traps. 

I think I never enjoyed anything more than 
the first trapping excursion which Herm and I 
made by ourselves. We had been out with our 
fathers on several such trips, but during the 
fall when we were fourteen years old my father 
and Mr. Weisman were busy building a log 
bam. We could not be of much assistance, 
and after a great deal of coaxing and persua- 
sion on our part, we were permitted to go up 
the river alone. 

We had already prepared our camp outfit 
and molded a large pouchful of bullets for our 
rifles, so that we were ready to start as soon 
as the plowing was done. 

Our provisions for the trip consisted of fifty 
pounds of flour, some beans, salt, sugar and 
[ 18 ] 



“ We owned a neat birch-bark canoe 



HERM AND I 


coffee, with a tin can full of mixed soda and 
cream of tartar with which to make flapjacks. 
We took a frying-pan, coffee-pot and camp- 
kettle, a tin plate and cup apiece, our hunting 
knives and a few iron spoons. Our outfit in- 
cluded two. pairs of heavy blankets for our bed, 
a small tent made of deerskins, eighteen steel 
traps, our guns, an axe and a good supply of 
ammunition. 

Herm came over to stay with me, and we 
had everything safely stowed away in the 
canoe the night before we were to start. My 
father’s log house stood on the bank of the 
river, and the next morning at sunrise we 
pushed the canoe into the stream. 

I seated myself in the bow. Herm was in 
the stern. My mother and sisters came down 
to the water’s edge to say good-by and caution 
us not to shoot each other nor get scalped by 
the Sioux. We laughed at this advice, and 
bade them all a cheery good-by. Our paddles 
flashed in the morning sunlight, and away we 
went up-stream. 


[ 21 ] 


HERM AND I 


Our mode of trapping was to paddle up each 
little creek that emptied into the river on one 
side, ascend the creek as far as we could in our 
canoe — for we always found the best trapping 
near the heads of streams — stay there as long 
as abundant success rewarded us, then return 
to the main river, go up it to another chosen 
creek, and “work” this as the one before. 
When we had gone up the main river as far as 
we thought prudence permitted, we crossed 
over and trapped the streams on the other side 
on our way home. 

This seemed to have been a prolific year for 
fur-bearing animals, and we had remarkable 
success from the start. Scarcely a morning 
passed that we did not find from one to three 
beavers or otters in our traps, besides perhaps 
a mink or two and half a dozen muskrats. 

Herm was a famous cook, and as wild ducks 
and geese were as plentiful and nearly as tame 
as chickens in a barn-yard, we fared sumptu- 
ously every day. Sometimes we fried the 
[ 22 ] 


HERM AND I 


birds, and sometimes broiled them over a bed 
of coals. But the dish we liked best was a 
stew of fat ducks and wild rice. 



“ Herm was a famous cook ” 


This rice grew in marshes around many of 
the small lakes. We would run our canoe into 
a thick patch of the grain, bend the stalks over 
the canoe, and thresh out a quart in a few min- 
[ 23 ] 


HERM AND I 


utes, using our paddle handles for flails. This 
rice is a very palatable food. It still grows lux- 
uriantly about the lakes in the northern part of 
Minnesota and Wisconsin, and forms the chief 
grain food of the Indians of that region to-day. 

Our tent was oniy six feet wide, eight long, 
and six high, with one end open. There were 
no ropes about it. All we needed in pitching it 
was three sapling poles — one of them, eight 
feet long, for a ridge-pole, the others for up- 
rights. Throwing the tent over them we se- 
cured it to the ground by driving a peg through 
a hole at each of the four corners. 

The deerskins of which it was made were 
tanned with the hair on, and sewed together so 
that the hair slanted downward like straw upon 
a thatched roof. This shed rain nicely, no 
matter how hard it might storm. 

Herm and I had worked many a long even- 
ing tanning the hides and making this tent. It 
was a contrivance wholly our own, for my 
father and Mr. Weisman never used a tent 

[ 24 ] 


HERM AND I 


when out trapping. How keenly we enjoyed 
its shelter during the frosty mornings and 
evenings, as we ate our meals or stretched 
and scraped the fresh skins that we had taken, 
while a big fire blazed cheerfully before the 
open end! 

The third week after we left home we pad- 
died up a creek about three miles long to a 
lake which formed its source, and there pitched 
our tent in the edge of thick woods. There we 
intended to camp at least a week, for we knew 
deer and bear to be plentiful in the neighbor- 
hood. Both of us longed to kill a bear, and 
have its hide to show our friends at home. 

We reached the lake soon after noon and had 
time that evening to pitch our camp, catch a 
string of fish for bait and set all of our traps. 

Two small creeks emptied into the lake and 
one flowed from it. We found three large 
beaver ponds on these streams within a mile of 
the lake, and dozens of well-worn “slides” 
where otters had engaged in their favorite 

[ 25 ] 


HERM AND L 


moonlight sport of sliding head foremost down 
the steep bank into the deep water below. 

We never baited our traps set for beaver, 
but expected the animals to step into them 
while at work upon their dams and houses. 
But for otter we baited with fish or wild fowl. 

Sometimes we set traps at the foot of their 
slides, but as the water was always deep at 
such places we had to drive sticks into the 
bank a few inches under water for the traps to 
rest upon. This took much time and labor. 

We found it easier and more successful to 
set traps near the slides at the less steep places 
where the otters crawled out of the water to 
ascend for another plunge. 

As we paddled down the lake to camp that 
night we were in high spirits. Besides much 
“sign” of beaver and otter, we had seen numer- 
ous deer tracks, and we meant to make the 
round of our traps on foot the next morning 
in hopes of being able to kill a buck. 

We often heard noises about our camp at 
[ 26 ] 


HERM AND I 


night, but as we always put big chunks of wood 
on our fire so that it would bum until morning, 
we thought no animals would come very near. 

That night, however, we had scarcely fallen 
asleep when we were suddenly awakened by 
the crackling of underbrush, and the tramping 
of some heavy animal which seemed to be 
prowling about very close to the tent. 

I seized a stick of wood which lay near the 
bed, and hurled it upon the fire. As embers 
and sparks flew about, the brute rushed off into 
the woods with a snort which was not at all 
unlike that of a frightened pig. 

“That ’s a bear, sure enough,” said Herm. 

“That *s just what it was,” I replied, “and 
unless he keeps pretty well hid daytimes we ’ll 
have his hide before we break camp.” 

We had set all our traps on a creek which 
emptied into the upper end of the lake about 
two miles above camp. With the first glimpse 
of daylight next morning we set off to visit 
them, and found they held a fine catch. We 
[ 27 ] 


HERM AND I 


skinned each animal as we came to it, reset 
and rebaited the trap and hurried on to the 
next one. 

Thus we had visited about half of the traps 
when we came to one which we had set near 
an old beaver-dam. We had fastened this trap 
to a large root which extended out over the 
water, and which we were sure was too large 
and tough for a beaver to gnaw off in one 
night. 

As soon as we came in sight of the trap we 
knew it held a big fellow, for the root had been 
savagely torn and deeply gnawed. Finding it 
impossible to free himself, the animal had 
jumped into deep water and been drowned. 
We ran to the spot, drew up the trap and 
found that it held the largest beaver we had 
ever caught. 

Laying him on the bank we gloated over his 
long, glossy fur, and calculated the price it 
would bring at the fort. Then, while Herm 
was engaged in removing its skin, I set about 
finding a new place to set the trap. 

[ 28 ] 


HERM AND I 


I had unfastened it from the root, and was 
about to climb up the bank when I happened 
to look over the top of the beaver-dam, which 
was about three feet high. 

There, at the edge of the water on the 
farther side of the stream, stood a large four- 
point buck, his head held high while his great 
brown eyes stared at us as though we were the 
most curious creatures he had ever seen. 

Without saying a word I caught up my rifle, 
which I had leaned against the root, and rest- 
ing the barrel across the dam, aimed at his 
shoulder and fired. The deer sprang into the 
air and fell headlong in the water. Herm was 
so much startled by the sudden shot that he 
almost followed the deer's example. 

“Well, that ’s what I call luck!" said Herm, 
as he saw the buck floundering. It took both 
of iis to haul the animal out of the creek. 

Herm went back and finished skinning the 
beaver, while I dressed the deer and hung it 
up in the forks of a large sapling. We cut off 
the “saddle" and carried it to camp that night, 
[ 29 ] 


HERM AND I 


intending to get the rest of the meat and the 
hide when we came up the creek the next day 
with the canoe. 

Finding two more beavers in the remaining 
traps, we had five fine skins to stretch that 
night. We stretched them upon willow poles 
about seven feet long, bent in the shape of a 
horseshoe. 

After scraping the fleshy side thoroughly 
with the backs of our hunting-knives to remove 
all particles of flesh and fat, we set the frames 
up before our fire, and in the daytime hung 
them in the sun. After several days of such 
treatment they were dry enough to take off 
the frames and tie up in bundles. 

Next morning we paddled up the lake, and 
reaching the first trap, found it sprung. The 
bait was gone, and the soft, muddy bank was 
torn up with long tracks which sank deep' in 
the mud, and were almost as large as a man’s 
foot. 

“It ’s that rascally bear, as sure as fate!” 

[ 30 ] 


HERM AND I 


exclaimed Herm. “I ’ll warrant he ’s followed 
up our tracks, or the scent of the bait, and 
served every trap in the same way.” 

That was just what the beast had under- 
taken to do. The next two traps we found 
sprung also, and the fish taken off of the bait 
sticks. 

“Say, Herm!” I exclaimed, as a sudden 
thought struck me, “like as not the brute has 
got our deer, too !” 

“Well,” replied Herm, “what fools we were 
not to think of that before! Of course he ’s 
got it, and eaten up the best part of it before 
this!” 

We looked at each other aghast. 

“But I ’ll tell you what,” Herm went on, “if 
he has got that deer we ’ll have his hide to pay 
for it. He won’t go far after he ’s had all he 
wants to eat.” 

“Say,” I cried, “let ’s leave the canoe here 
and strike across through the woods. We 
may find him at the deer yet.” 

So we started off pell-mell after the bear. 

[ 31 ] 






A CARGO OF BEAR 






























HERM AND I 


CHAPTER II 

A CARGO OF BEAR 

E AGER to shoot the bear, Herm and I 
struck through the forest and hurried 
along until we were near the dam. 
Then, carefully noting the direction of 
the wind, which was quite strong, we crept 
toward the spot, keeping the wind in our faces. 

We hardly expected to find the bear where 
we had left the deer, for it seemed likely that 
he would have eaten all he wanted and gone off 
to sleep through the day in the thick brush 
near by. So we were not a little surprised, 
when we emerged from a dense thicket of 
hazel brush through which we had crawled on 
our hands and knees, to find the old fellow 
squatted on his haunches, with his side toward 
us, while he feasted contentedly on the fat car- 
135 ] 


HERM AND I 


cass which he held on the ground between his 
forepaws. 

I will not say that we were frightened, but 
from some cause our limbs shook at an aston- 
ishing rate. A strong wind prevented the bear 
from hearing or smelling us, and we had our 
wits about us enough to know that it would be 
foolhardy to fire at him while our hands trem- 
bled as they did. So we lay close to the ground 
until our nerves were more steady. 

Then, rising upon our elbows, we aimed, 
Herm at his neck and I just back of his shoul- 
der. We fired at the same instant.. We had 
each selected a tree and were ready to do some 
hasty climbing; but the bear rolled over and 
died almost without a struggle. Herm’s bullet 
had broken his neck. 

To say that we were elated would not de- 
scribe our feelings. We danced and yelled 
with delight. We had killed our first bear, and 
a large one at that ! 

Of course we wanted to get him to camp be- 

[ 36 ] 


/ 



“ The old fellow squatted on his haunches ” 






HERM AND I 


fore skinning and cutting him up, in order that 
we might save all the fat and keep the meat in 
good condition ; but how to do it was the ques- 
tion. 

We soon hit upon a plan. I went back for 



“ We lay close to the ground ” 


the canoe, while Herm went farther up the 
creek to look after the rest of the traps. I 
brought the canoe up as far as the dam and 
fastened it under the edge of the creek bank, 
which was four or five feet high, covered with 
grass and overhanging the water. We meant 
[ 39 ] 


HERM AND I 


to get the bear to the edge of the bank and 
slide it down into the canoe. 

When Herm returned from the traps we set 
at work; and we had a wearisome time of it. 
The bear was extremely fat, and so soft and 
limp as to be very difficult to handle. We 
could get him along only by rolling him over 
and over. 

It took a long time to bring him to the bank, 
but this proved only the beginning of our 
troubles. We knelt on the edge of the bank, 
and grasping the bear by the legs, rolled him 
slowly to its brink. We saw that the weight 
would be too much for us the moment he went 
over; but it was too late to stop then, and we 
dared not let go lest the carcass should knock 
the bottom out of the canoe. 

Just at that moment the bank gave way, and 
down we went in a bunch. The bear happened 
to land in the canoe, but Herm and I fell into 
six feet of almost ice-cold water. Scrambling 
out, we found dry matches in the pockets of 
[ 40 ] 


HERM AND I 


our coats which, luckily, we had pulled off and 
thrown down in a safe spot while tugging at 
the bear, and soon had a huge fire burning. 
While drying our clothes we roasted some of 
the venison, and ate a hearty lunch before 
starting down the creek for camp again. 

We had noticed that the water was some- 
what rough; before we reached the middle of 
the lake and began to feel the full force of the 
wind, we found that it required our utmost ex- 
ertions to keep our frail craft from capsizing. 

A birch-bark canoe is easily sprung out of 
shape. The three hundred pounds of bear 
meat sunk the middle of our craft, which had 
probably been badly shaken when the bear 
tumbled in, almost to the water’s edge, while 
the stern and prow were much tilted up. We 
headed straight for camp and paddled for dear 
life, thinking we should be swamped if we tried 
to turn back. 

We had gone some distance, being much 
pitched and rolled by the waves, when an un- 
[ 41 ] 


HERM AND I 


usually large one caught us amidships and 
broke over the side. In trying to tilt the canoe 
so as to keep the water out we leaned over too 
far; the sea helped our weight, and before we 
could right ourselves she was half full of water 
that came over the lee side. We knew that the 
next heavy wave would probably send to the 
bottom bear, guns and all. 

We could swim ashore well enough without 
our rifles, but we felt that we must save those 
at all hazards. Pulling off our boots and coats, 
we threw these in the bottom of the canoe, 
with our rifles on top to keep them from float- 
ing away, and sprang over the side into the 
chilly water. 

One of us swam on each side. Grasping the 
gunwale with one hand to keep the canoe from 
capsizing, we struck out with the other hand 
as we drifted toward the shore a quarter of a 
mile away. 

The water was icy cold. In spite of our vig- 
orous exertions our limbs began to stiffen, 

[ 42 ] 


HERM AND I 


until it required all our strength to retain our 
hold upon the gunwale, leaving the canoe to 
drift wholly at the mercy of the wind and 
waves. We expected every moment that it 



“ One of us swam on each side ” 


would swing round broadside to the wind and 
either capsize or fill and sink. But fortunately 
this did not occur. We had become so ex- 
hausted that it was a question of only a few 
[ 43 ] 


HERM AND I 


moments how much longer we should be able 
to hang on, when at last we touched bottom 
with our feet. The lake was very shallow for 
some distance from the shore. 

The drifting canoe helped us along to land, 
and when we did reach it we threw ourselves 
upon the tall, dry grass, chilled through and 
completely exhausted. But the bright sun- 
shine soon warmed us. When we had regained 
our strength somewhat, we drew the canoe up 
the bank, took our boots and guns, and started 
for camp. 

What a pile of dried meat and tallow that 
bear yielded, and what a fine black robe his 
hide made ! It kept us busy every evening for 
a week trying out the fat, and it nearly half- 
filled a two-bushel bag, which was the only re- 
ceptacle we had to put it in. 

For two weeks longer we continued trap- 
ping, without any remarkable adventure, and 
then with our canoe well ballasted with furs, 
dried meat and tallow, we started down the 
[ 44 ] 


HERM AND I 


river before daylight one morning, and reached 
home at dark that night. 

Such rejoicing as there was over our return ! 
And I think I never more than half appreci- 
ated my mother’s cooking until we sat down to 
the supper which she spread for us that night. 

Naturally we were very proud of our suc- 
cess. We had taken over one hundred dollars’ 
worth of furs besides our bearskin, nearly as 
good a catch as father and Mr. Weisman had 
ever made. We were the envy of all the boys 
in the settlement, and felt as if we had grown 
about a foot in stature during the time we had 
been away from home. 

Two years passed away after Herm and I 
made this, our first trapping expedition, and 
the last of August, 1862, found us again pre- 
paring for our regular yearly hunt. We were 
now almost men, and had arrived at man’s 
stature none too soon; for the great Civil War 
was raging. Nearly all the able-bodied men in 
the settlements, my father and Herm’s in- 
145 ] 


HERM AND I 


eluded, were away in the army, and each of us 
found the burden of a family’s support chiefly 
resting upon him. 

We had sown and harvested the usual crops 
of wheat and oats on both farms, but the sea- 
son had been a dry one, and the crop was very 
light. Mother and Mrs. Weisman were both 
unwilling that we should leave home. Rumor 
had reached us that the Sioux Indians, realiz- 
ing the unprotected condition of the settle- 
ments, were gathering their scattered bands 
and preparing to go upon the warpath. 

But rumors of this kind were abroad every 
year at the same season, and as our stock of 
groceries was getting low, and owing to the 
short crops, we needed, for the purchase of our 
winter supplies, all the money we could get 
from the sale of hides and furs, our mothers 
bravely decided at last that we should under- 
take our usual yearly hunt. 

But as a measure of safety I suggested that 
Herm’s mother and her children should stay 
[ 46 ] 


HERM AND I 


at our house while we were away. Herm’s 
two brothers — twelve and fourteen years of 
age — were sturdy, manly boys, and would do 
their best to care for those we left at home. 

We had noticed no unusual movement 
among the Indians in our neighborhood. Par- 
ties were occasionally seen going up or down 
the river in their canoes or across the country 
with their ponies from one hunting-ground to 
another, as was their custom at that season, 
but we had heard of no actual depredations. 
I advised my mother, however, in case further 
reports should confirm the bad rumors, not to 
wait for our return, but to drive the stock into 
the woods, load our bateau with what furniture 
and provisions it would hold, and row down to 
the fort, thirty miles away. 

This bateau, which was always afloat and 
tied to the river shore in front of our house, 
would carry more than two tons. We often 
used it to transport farm produce down the 
river to the fort, bringing back to the settle- 
ment groceries and provisions. 

[ 47 ] 


HERM AND I 


The day before we were to start Mrs. Weis- 
man and her children took up their abode with 
my mother. We were not as jubilant as usual 
as we started for our trapping grounds up the 
river the next morning. There might be some 
truth in these Indian rumors, and we felt our- 
selves responsible for the safety of the two 
families. 

We concluded not to go farther than thirty 
or forty miles from home, to watch sharply 
for signs of any unusual movement by the 
Sioux, and if these were found, to paddle home 
at once. Going with the current we could 
cover the distance easily in one day. 

The first night out we reached the last set- 
tlement on the river, twenty miles from home, 
and camped there, but could learn nothing 
further about the Indians. The people seemed 
to be a little apprehensive, but many of them 
thought there was no real cause for fear. 

After selecting a good camping-place about 
fifteen miles above the upper settlement, we 
[ 48 ] 


HERM AND I 


hunted in the vicinity for ten days. Fur signs 
were abundant, and deer so plenty that at this 
camp we secured nearly half a cargo of dried 
meat and a dozen hides. Then we moved about 
five miles nearer our old camp on the bank of 
the lake where we had killed the bear two 
years before. 

We had now been away from home nearly 
two weeks, and had not seen a single Indian. 
This was unusual, but we were so busy hunt- 
ing and trapping that we gave the matter too 
little thought. It was not till we got our camp 
in order that we seriously considered the situ- 
ation. 

Herm was restless and did not sleep much 
that night. He was also silent and moody the 
next morning, while we were preparing break- 
fast, and I knew something was troubling him. 

“Well, Herm,” said I, after we had eaten in 
silence, “what is it that ’s on your mind?” 

“I ’ll tell you,” he replied. “I am anxious 
about the folks at home. We ought to have 

4 —Herm and I [ 49 ] 


HERM AND I 


stayed there and taken care of them. We 
never have been out before without seeing 
dozens of Sioux camping along the streams 
and hunting like ourselves. We were thought- 
less enough to leave home at all, but we have 
acted like idiots in not returning as soon as we 
noticed that the Indians were not scattered 
about, hunting, as they always have been at 
this time of the year.” 

“Oh, that ’s nothing, we Ve just happened to 
miss them; that ’s all,” said I with an assur- 
ance I did not feel, for Herm’s seriousness 
startled me. My own woodcraft and knowl- 
edge of Indian habits should have pointed out 
the danger in a circumstance so unusual and 
suspicious. I was vexed that it had not. 

“No,” said Herm, “we have paddled up the 
river for forty miles, and hunted the country 
all over, and have n’t seen an Indian, nor found 
a single fresh camp. What does it all mean? 
Why, it can mean but one thing, and that is 
that they have been getting ready for a mas- 
150 ] 


HERM AND I 


sacre. It’s probably all over with before this 
time, and unless they were warned, our folks 
have been killed and scalped, and everything 
burned down.” 

There were tears in his eyes as he spoke, and 
I felt the truth of what he had said. It was 
plain to me, now that I thought the matter 
over seriously, and my mind was filled with ap- 
prehension. 

“I believe you are right,” I replied. “We 
must start for home right off. Perhaps it is n’t 
too late yet.” 

We immediately struck our tent and made 
things snug in the canoe. We placed the bun- 
dle of deerskins in the stern behind Herm, 
and one sack of meat in the bow in front of me, 
while the rest of the load was stowed amid- 
ships, leaving a space about four feet from each 
end large enough for us to sit or kneel in while 
paddling. 

With so late a start it would be long after 
dark before we got home. Plying our paddles 
[ 51 ] 


HERM AND I 


with a will we soon reached the mouth of the 
creek, and shot our canoe out into the middle 
of the river in order to get the full benefit of 
the current. 

We did not think of seeing Indians as we 
came out of the mouth of the creek, and did 
not stop to reconnoitre before venturing into 
the river. Imagine our consternation, when, 
just as we reached the middle, happening to 
glance up the stream behind us, we saw a large 
canoe containing six Sioux warriors coming 
down toward us as fast as their half dozen 
paddles could send their craft through the 
water. 

“Bend low — paddle for your life!” Herm 
called to me, and our canoe fairly jumped with 
our strokes. 


[ 52 ] 


HIDE AND SEEK WITH SIOUX 




HERM AND I 


CHAPTER III 

HIDE AND SEEK WITH SIOUX 

O NE glance at the Indian canoe had told 
us that the Sioux meant mischief, 
for their painted bodies declared 
them braves on the war-path. As if 
to dispel any doubt of their intentions, they 
quickened their stroke and yelled fiercely when 
they saw that we had discovered them. 

I own that I was almost paralyzed with fear ; 
but Herm, the quiet, blue-eyed German, whom 
you would have thought too timid and gentle- 
natured to fight anything, was as cool as if 
there had been no Indian within a hundred 
miles. 

“Keep your head down!” he said. “They 
may take to shooting,” and before we had gone 
a hundred yards he called out again : 

“Steer for the right bank! We ’ve got to 
[ 55 ] 


HERM AND I 


land and take our chances in the grass. 
They ’ll catch us in less than half a mile at 
this rate.” 

Our canoe was heavily loaded, and two pad- 
dles were no match for six. Seeing a stretch 
of sloping, sandy shore ahead, we made for it 
with all our might. The Sioux saw our object, 
and coming within rifle range before we could 
land, dropped their paddles, and snatching up 
their guns, fired a volley after us. 

But to shoot straight from a dancing canoe 
when one’s hands are trembling from the pad- 
dle is in no man’s power. The Indians did 
wonders under the circumstances. 

One of the bullets lodged in the bundle of 
deerskins behind Herm, while the rest whistled 
past our ears, one of them barely grazing 
Herm’s left shoulder as he bent forward, in- 
flicting a slight but painful skin wound. Had 
it not been for his stooping posture, and the 
bundle of deerskins behind him, he might have 
been killed outright. 


[ 56 ] 


HERM AND I 


The Sioux made a great mistake in firing at 
us while we were in the canoe. Had they re- 
served their bullets until we sprang ashore on 
the sloping beach, they might have killed one 
or both of us. 



They quickened their stroke ” 


We were going so fast that the canoe ran 
half its length out of the water up on the sandy 
shore. Before the Sioux could reload their 
guns, we seized our rifles, ran up the bank, 
and dashed into the tall bottom grass. 

[ 57 ] 


HERM AND I 


On the right bank at this place the river bot- 
toms were about a mile wide, and clear of tim- 
ber. In fact, there was no woodland on that 
side of the stream for some miles, though the 
left bank was heavily timbered. Could we 
have landed there, we should have been pretty 
sure of escaping, but the left bank was high 
and steep, and the current there so rapid that 
it would have been almost impossible for us 
to get ashore. 

The dense growth of swamp grass and wild 
rice, often taller than a man’s head, which cov- 
ered the ground over which we fled, enabled us 
to get out of sight in a twinkling. 

“They ’ll be right after us!” exclaimed 
Herm, “and they are likely to get our scalps! 
But we won’t lose them without doing what 
we can to keep them. 

“Come on !” he shouted, as he saw that I was 
not keeping up with his rapid pace. “Keep be- 
hind me, and as we run tramp down all the 
grass you can.” 


[ 58 ] 


HERM AND I 


We ran as fast as we could, leaving a plain 
trail behind us. We knew the Sioux, as soon 
as they could reload their guns, would follow 
on the run. What Herm’s plan was I did not 
conjecture, but his courage was contagious, 
and after my first fright was over, I soon lost 
all sense of fear, and thought only of how to 
fight wisely in the defence to which I foresaw 
that we must soon be forced. 

Herm seemed fiercer than I. Thoughts of 
his mother and brothers at home, probably 
murdered and scalped in cold blood, together 
with the smarting pain of his wound, seemed 
to have changed his nature. His face was pale 
with passion, his fighting German blood was 
up, and his blue eyes blazed balefully. He had 
inherited from his German parents that intense 
love of home and kindred which fires the blood 
of the German soldier, and makes him the 
most formidable of foes when fighting in de- 
fence of “Vaterland.” 

“Don’t miss when you shoot!” he called 

[ 59 ] 


HERM AND I 


back to me over his shoulder in a clear, low, 
steady tone. “Be sure you hit an Indian every 
time you fire. There ’s only one chance for us 
to get out of this alive, and that is by disabling 
every one of the murdering wretches.” 

On we ran, until I was about to drop for lack 
of breath. The Indians had found our trail 
and were following it, yelling like demons. 
Herm slackened his pace, and when I came up 
he stopped short. 

“Now,” said he, “when I jump, you jump 
after me, and in my tracks!” 

Springing off to the left as far as we could, 
and at right angles with our former course, we 
ran in a straight line in that direction for a few 
yards, when Herm squatted down and mo- 
tioned me to do the same. 

“Now,” said he, “it ’s likely one or two of 
the best runners will be ahead; and they will 
lose our trail for a moment where we jumped 
off. They will stop and look around to see 
which way we have gone. Now you shoot the 
[ 60 ] 


HERM AND I 


first one that comes in sight, and look out that 
you don’t miss him. As soon as we ’ve fired 
we ’ll run on again, and while the rest of them 
stop to see what ’s the matter, and look for our 
trail, we can get a good way ahead. If they 
keep on following us, we ’ll dodge off one side 
and play the same trick again.” 

By the yells of the Indians, which now came 
plainly to us, it was evident that one or two of 
them were in advance of the rest. We had 
barely time to recover our breath and steady 
our nerves a little as we squatted in the grass, 
our rifles cocked and our eyes directed down 
the opening which our short, straight trail 
made in the tall grass, when the foremost In- 
dian dashed up to where we had jumped aside. 

He seemed perplexed at the sudden termina- 
tion of the trail, and looking around to see 
where we had gone, turned his broad, painted 
breast squarely toward us. Then he caught 
sight of our trail, and of us at the same mo- 
ment, but before he could raise his rifle I fired. 

[ 61 ] 


HERM AND I 


Throwing up his long arms, he fell forward in 
the grass. 

I started to run the instant I fired, but Herm 
had heard another Sioux coming, close behind 
the first one, and waited for him to show him- 
self in the opening. Before I had taken more 
than half a dozen jumps I heard my chum’s 
rifle. Of course I could not see the Indian, 
but I knew his fate as well as if I had seen him 
fall. 

Herm quickly overtook and passed me. We 
bounded along through the tall rice and grass, 
and then made another angle, so that the other 
four Sioux could not see us while running up. 

Y ells more savage than before told us when 
they stumbled upon their comrades. It was 
evident they had not expected much resist- 
ance from us, and I have no doubt they had 
thought that the shots they heard had been 
fired by their companions. 

On account of the two angles we had made 
it may have taken some time to find our trail 
[ 62 ] 


HERM AND I 


again, or perhaps they stopped to debate their 
course, for we were able to get a good distance 
ahead of them. But how we did run! We 
knew our lives depended upon gaining enough 
ground to enable us to reload before they 
overtook us ; and although the grass was very 
thick and tall, we tore through it at a tremen- 
dous pace. 

The sharp blades rasped our cheeks and 
wrists until our faces and hands were stream- 
ing with blood. 

We were now running parallel with the 
river, and were nearly out of breath again, 
when Herm jumped off to one side and I fol- 
lowed. Leaving a straight, open trail behind 
us, and stopping within easy range of the angle 
as we had done before, we squatted down and 
began loading our rifles. 

“Don’t hurry,” whispered Herm; “load care- 
fully. We ’ve got time enough, and it won’t 
do to miss fire. They ’ll all come in a bunch 
this time, and we must drop two of them and 
take our chances with the other two.” 

[ 63 ] 


HERM AND I 


The Indians were either too much excited 
and enraged to notice anything like a trick in 
the way we had ambushed their companions, 
or thought we could not find time to reload and 
would prove easy victims this time. This came 
very near being the case, for we had barely 
rammed down our bullets when the whole 
four came in sight. 

They stopped as before at the end of our 
trail, and seemed to suspect some ruse. Be- 
fore they caught sight of us we had capped our 
guns, and were aiming at the two in the cen- 
tre of the group. The moment we fired we 
wheeled and ran direct for the river, bending as 
low as possible, surmising that the two re- 
maining Indians would fire at the moving 
grass, hoping to hit us. Our surmise was cor- 
rect. They did shoot, but their bullets flew 
wild. 

I thought Herm’s plan was to take to the 
canoe, but before we reached the river he 
snatched off his cap and mine also. - 

[ 64 ] 


HERM AND I 


“Shove the canoe into the river!” he 
shouted, as we rushed down the bank; and 
while I did as directed he ran alongside. Stuf- 
fing grass into each cap and placing one on the 
end of each paddle, he leaned them against 
the bundle of deerskins and sacks of meat in 
such a way that they looked as the tops of our 
heads might have looked had we been trying 
vainly to conceal ourselves entirely behind the 
gunwale of the canoe. 

Giving the canoe a tremendous push we 
sent it out into the middle of the stream. Then 
we ran up the bank on our first trail, followed 
the now broad path into the grass, and squat- 
ting down to one side began to reload as rap- 
idly as possible. 

We were hardly out of sight before the two 
Sioux ran down to the bank. They gave an 
exultant yell as they saw our caps sticking up 
over the edge of the canoe. Lest we should 
have loaded first and should take a shot at 
them from the canoe they dodged back into the 

5 — Herm and I [ 65 ] 


HERM AND I 


grass to reload. We dared not make the 
slightest noise ; and they had their guns loaded 
and capped before we had our bullets down. 

Soon they left the grass to get nearer to our 
canoe ; and we thanked our stars that they had 
been so completely deceived by the caps that 
they never thought of looking for us in the 
grass. We took our time to load, and then 
crept to the edge of the grass to watch them. 

‘‘Don’t shoot while they are moving,” whis- 
pered Herm, “but wait until they take aim at 
our caps, and then let them have it.” 

We did not have long to wait. The canoe 
was moving along with the current, first one 
end ahead then the other, and as soon as it 
swung round so that it once more presented its 
broadside to the bank, both Indians dropped on 
their knees and took deliberate aim at the caps. 

“Now ’s our time!” whispered Herm. “You 
take the nearest one.” 

We all fired so nearly at the same instant 
that the four shots — the Sioux’s and our own — 
[ 66 ] 


HERM AND I 


almost blended in one report. We waited long 
enough to see that both of our shots had taken 
effect. Then we ran, shoved the Indians’ 



Took deliberate aim ” 


canoe into the river, and paddled down stream 
in it until we overtook our own. 

Landing both canoes and dragging them out 
[ 67 ] 


HERM AND I 


of sight in the grass, we loaded our guns once 
more and went back to where the two Indians 
lay on the bank. They appeared to be lifeless. 
It was a bitter thought that we had in all 
probability ended several fellow-beings’ lives; 
but surely every law of self-defence had justi- 
fied our course. 

Lest some other war party, passing up or 
down the river, should discover them, we 
dragged the bodies of these two men out of 
sight in the grass. Then we took their rifles 
and ammunition and crept through the grass 
to the canoes. 

Now that we had time to think of something 
beside our own peril, we were filled with the 
most gloomy forebodings as to the fate of our 
folks at home. We had no doubt that the Sioux 
had planned a general massacre, and unless our 
families had been warned in time we knew 
what their fate must have been. 

It was not yet later than noon, and we knew 
that it could not be safe for us to embark again 
[ 68 ] 


HERM AND I 


before dark. Not daring to make a fire, we ate 
some of our dried venison and some cold flap- 
jacks left from our breakfast. 

After creeping down to the edge of the water 
for a drink, and to bathe our scratched and 
bleeding hands and faces, we stretched our- 
selves in the grass near the bank where we 
could see if any one passed up or down the 
stream. I examined Herm’s wound, finding 
it only skin deep, and not likely to cause him 
much inconvenience after the first smarting 
was over. 

Then we happened to think of our caps, 
which we had hurriedly replaced upon our 
heads without looking to see if the Indians had 
hit them. We found a ragged bullet-hole in 
each ; and the handle of my paddle upon which 
my cap had rested was shivered into splinters, 
so that I was obliged to take one from the 
canoe of the Indians to replace it. Soon I pro- 
posed to go back and take from the dead In- 
dians their rifles and ammunition. But Herm 
would not hear of this. 

[ 69 ] 


HERM AND I 


“No,” said he, “some of them may be only 
wounded. If any man of them is alive he will 
be watching for us. We can’t afford to take 
any such chances.” And so we remained 
where we were. 

Luckily for us the clouds gathered before 
night, and rain came with a strong northwest 
wind. When it was quite dark we launched 
our canoe, and with the wind to help us sped 
down-stream at a rate which, at any other 
time, we should have considered hazardous. 
But we thought little of danger to ourselves, 
so great was our anxiety to learn the fate of 
those we had left at home. 

We reached the upper settlement about mid- 
night. Smoldering fires were all that remained 
of its comfortable log houses and barns. 

Our worst fears seemed to have been real- 
ized. Yet one hope remained. Our mothers 
might have been warned in time and escaped 
to the fort. 

We plied our paddles with renewed vigor, 
and at dawn were within a mile of home. 

[ 70 ] 


HERM AND I 


Landing at the first convenient spot, we 
dragged the canoe into some thick brush near 
the bank. When it was fairly daylight, we 



crept cautiously along the bank toward the 
spot where my father’s house had stood. 

The sight which greeted us was enough to 
bring woe to any heart. Worn out with fa- 
171 ] 


HERM AND I 


tigue and loss of sleep, and having eaten 
scarcely anything for twenty-four hours, we 
were unable to restrain our grief; and tears 
ran down my cheeks as I gazed upon the spot 
which had been such a happy home to me. 

Everything was in ashes. Even the fences 
and woodpile were burned. We turned away 
and went in the direction of Mr. Weisman’s 
house. Herm thought that, as their place was 
some distance back from the river, it might 
have escaped the general destruction. But the 
Indians had been thorough in their ruthless 
work. House, barn, haystacks were burned to 
the ground. 

We had not dared to show ourselves in the 
open ground for fear some of the Sioux might 
be lurking near, ready to shoot down any one 
who should venture back to the settlement. 
But as the day advanced we reconnoitered the 
woods, and not finding any fresh signs of Indi- 
ans, determined to examine the ruins of our 
lost homes, in hopes of obtaining some clue to 
the fate of the two families. 

[ 72 ] 


CAPTURING A FLEET 





HERM AND I 


CHAPTER IV 

CAPTURING A FLEET 

F ROM the shore near the ashes of my 
father’s house the family bateau was 
gone. We had noticed that at first. 
But something we had not noticed, and 
which kindled hope the instant I caught sight 
of it, was mother’s old rocking-chair. It stood 
close to the river bank, where the bateau had 
always been tied. 

It was not simply that a familiar object, 
saved from the general ruin, caused my heart 
to leap with joy. The old rocking-chair had a 
world of meaning to me. I knew that it would 
be the first piece of furniture mother would 
think of saving in case they had been warned 
and had fled to the fort for safety. 

The chair had been in her family for three 
[ 75 ] 


HERM AND I 


generations. She had brought it from her 
Pennsylvania home when she and father were 
married and moved out West, and money 
would not have induced her to part with it. 

I rushed down to the bank regardless of In- 
dians. Yes, the families had surely made their 
escape, for the path was well trodden where 
they had passed back and forth, carrying 
things from the house to the boat, and the 
footprints were those of boots and shoes, not 
moccasins. Mother had probably found at the 
last moment that there was not room in the 
bateau for the chair, or they had left hurriedly 
and had been forced to leave it. We could not 
help believing that our loved ones were prob- 
ably safe in the fort. 

On our way back to the canoe we found the 
dead body of one of my pet steers which the 
Sioux had killed for beef. I had taken a great 
deal of pains training the animal and his mate, 
and when I found him killed I was angry 
enough to wish to annihilate the whole Sioux 
[76 J 


HERM AND I 


tribe. But we were ravenously hungry, and 
could not fire our guns for fear of Indians who, 
we were certain, must be camped near the 
river not far away. So I cut into the carcass 



“Mother’s old rocking-chair” 


of my lamented steer. The Indians had taken 
only the hindquarters, and the rest of the meat 
was still good. We took as much as we 
thought we should need and carried it back to 
the canoe. 



HERM AND I 


Then, taking our coffee-pot, with some sugar 
and salt, we went back from the river about 
half a mile to a deep, rocky ravine, where we 
thought it might be safe to make a fire. Gath- 
ering an armful of dry oak twigs, which would 
cause little smoke, we made a pot of coffee, 
broiled slices of beef on the coals, and ate the 
first meal we had had for twenty-four hours. 

The fresh meat and warm drink, after so 
long a fast, and our fatigue made us drowsy. 
So, finding a thick patch of grass in a sunny 
nook, we threw ourselves down and were soon 
fast asleep. 

It was about the middle of the forenoon 
when we lay down, and so tired and worn were 
we that it was nearly sundown before we 
awoke. The food and rest had done us a world 
of good. We woke up feeling nearly as hun- 
gry as ever; and not knowing how long it 
might be, or how much fatigue we should have 
to endure before we reached the fort, we 
started our fire again, and ate a hearty supper. 

[ 78 ] 


HERM AND I 


Just at dark we reached the river, and were 
about to drag the canoe from its hiding-place 
when Herm said: 

“I think we had better not try to reach the 
fort to-night.” 

“Why,” said I, “what ’s the matter?” 

“You know well enough there must be In- 
dians all along the river. It was cloudy and 
dark last night, and no one could see us; but 
to-night it will be bright moonlight. And if we 
happen to pass any camps, the reds will be 
likely to see us. The moon rose night before 
last about eight. To-night it will be up about 
two hours later, and we can’t get half way to 
the fort by that time.” 

“Perhaps you are right,” I answered. “I ’m 
inclined to think we had better wait a day or 
two. It may get cloudy again, and by our 
waiting the moon will come up late enough for 
us to reach the fort before it rises.” 

“That ’s what I was thinking,” said Herm. 
“We can take our blankets and a few things 
back to the ravine, and hide there.” 

[ 79 ] 


IIERM AND I 


“Whis-st!” said I, throwing myself flat upon 
the ground as a familiar sound caught my ear. 
Herm followed my example. 

“What is it?” he whispered. 

“Paddles,” said I. “Don’t you hear them?” 

“Yes, I do now,” he replied, “and there are 
a dozen or more of them. It ’s lucky we did n’t 
put out.” 

We lay on the bank, peering up stream in 
the direction of the sounds, and could hear the 
regular stroke of many paddles. When they 
were just opposite us we could discern four 
long canoes, one behind the other, with four or 
five Indians in each canoe. We waited until 
they were past and out of hearing; then we 
piled more brush and grass over our canoe, 
and scratched the loose, dry soil over with 
bushes to obliterate our tracks as much as pos- 
sible. Taking our blankets, with what pro- 
visions we could carry easily, we went back to 
the ravine. 

Finding the spot where we had slept during 
[ 80 ] 


HERM AND I 


the day, we curled up in our blankets for a 
good night’s rest. We were not very sleepy, 
and lay awake for a long time discussing the 
events of the past few days. We felt sure that 
our people were safe at the fort, and that we 
must not think of starting down the river for 
three days at least, if the weather remained 
clear. 

“We shall have to paddle like racers to reach 
the fort before the moon comes up then,” said 
Herm. “And to-morrow we had better see if 
we can find any of our cattle.” 

“All right,” said I, “we will. We ought to 
find out all we can to tell the folks at the fort.” 

We slept late the next morning, and after 
cooking our breakfast, started off in the direc- 
tion in which we expected to find the stock. 
I knew that mother, if there had been time for 
it, would have caused the cattle to be driven 
a distance of several miles back from the river, 
to a piece of low, wet land, covered with scat- 
tering timber. 


6 — Herm and I 


[81] 


HERM AND I 


Though the dry season had dried up all the 
grass upon the higher lands, this low, damp 
soil had kept the feed fresh and green; and 
being several miles from the nearest house, 
this was the best possible place to hide the cat- 
tle from the Indians. Keeping along the bot- 
toms of deep ravines, and in the thick timber 
where we were pretty well concealed, we soon 
reached this swamp, and were delighted to find 
the stock, both ours and Mr. Weisman’s, graz- 
ing contentedly. Not a single head was miss- 
ing, except that luckless steer of mine, which 
had probably been overlooked when the rest 
were driven away. 

The two cow-bells had been taken from the 
necks of the old cows that always led the herd, 
lest their noise should reveal the presence of 
the stock to the Indians. This pleased us 
greatly, for we reasoned that those who had 
found time to take such precautions concern- 
ing the cattle would also be in time in looking 
to their own safety. 


[ 82 ] 


HERM AND I 


Returning to the ravine by noon, we ate our 
lunch and crept down to the river to see if our 
canoe was all right, and to watch for signs of 
the Sioux. Hiding in thick brush near the 
bank, we watched the stream all the afternoon 
without seeing anything of the Indians; and 
then we returned to the ravine at dark. 

Early the next morning we went down to the 
river again, taking a cooked lunch with us, in- 
tending to stay there all day, as we thought we 
should be more likely to discover the move- 
ments of the Sioux by watching the stream 
than by reconnoitering on land, and with much 
less danger to ourselves. We lay in the bushes 
until nearly sundown without seeing a canoe. 

To our great joy the sky became overcast 
with clouds as night approached, and we 
looked forward to a dark, rainy night, which 
would enable us to reach the fort and our 
friends. We were about to return to the ra- 
vine to cook our supper and get ready for an 
early start, when, on taking a last look up and 
[ 83 ] 


HERM AND I 


down the river, we caught sight, just round- 
ing the bend below, of four large canoes — 
probably the same ones we had seen pass 
down-stream two evenings before. 

“There are only two in each canoe this 
time,” whispered Herm. 

“And the canoes are loaded from stem to 
stern,” I responded. “I wonder what they Ve 
got aboard. We ’ll soon see, anyway.” 

“Why, they are squaws, don’t you see? 
Every one of them !” said Herm, almost jump- 
ing to his feet in astonishment. 

“Sure enough!” I replied, “and the canoes 
are loaded with blankets, quilts, sacks of flour, 
hams and pork.” 

“I ’ll tell you what it means,” interrupted 
Herm. “They think there is n’t a white man 
left nearer than the fort, and this is some of 
the plunder they ’ve taken out of houses be- 
fore burning them. They ’ve sent for the 
squaws to come and tote it up the river, where 
it will be safe when the soldiers get after 
them.” 


[ 84 ] 


HERM AND I 


As the canoes came up abreast of us, we saw 
that the squaws seemed tired, and we con- 
cluded they would camp before going much 
farther. 

“They ’re looking for a camping place now,” 
said Herm. 

Suddenly an idea occurred to me that 
seemed full of promise. I looked so delighted 
that Herm exclaimed, “Well! What ’s the mat- 
ter now?” 

“What ’s the matter?” I repeated, “why, 
don’t you see that if those squaws camp any- 
where near here, we can probably bag the 
whole outfit and tow it to the fort.” 

“What !” said Herm, with no little contempt, 
“you would n’t shoot squaws, would you?” 

“I ’m not going to shoot anybody,” I re- 
joined. “It ’s the canoes we ’re after. Why, 
there may be a hundred dollars’ worth of stuff 
in every one of them, and we can capture them 
and not half try. The squaws won’t unload 
them, nor even drag them out of the water; 

[ 85 ] . 


HERM AND I 


they ’re too heavy. They ’ll simply tie them 
up to the bank and take out what blankets they 
want to sleep on, and some things to cook 
with, and camp on the bank where there ’s 
plenty of wood handy. It ’s beginning to 
sprinkle now, and it will be as dark a night as 
we can ask for.” 

“I ’m with you,” said Herm. “We can do it, 
and it will be fun. Won’t those squaws tear 
around when they wake up in the morning and 
find themselves afoot and ashore!” 

We watched them as they paddled past us, 
and pulled in to the opposite shore a few hun- 
dred yards above. They made their canoes 
fast to the willows which grew along the edge 
of the water, and began to take out blankets 
and pots and kettles, and carry them up on the 
bank. 

They hung some blankets over two saplings 
which they bent down and tied together to 
make a sort of tent to protect them from the 
rain, and spread other blankets over the tops 
of the canoes to keep their contents dry. 

[ 86 ] 


HERM AND I 


We waited to see no more, but hurried back 
to the ravine, cooked and ate our supper, 
gathered our things together, and returned to 
the canoe as quickly as we could. 



“ They bent down saplings ” 


A drizzling rain was falling, and it was al- 
ready so dark that we could hardly see each 
other; but we thought it wise to give the 

[ 87 ] 


HERM AND I 


squaws plenty of time to eat their supper, and 
get settled for the night, before venturing near 
their camp. 

“We ’ll be all right,” said Herm, “if they 
have n’t any dogs to smell us, and I don’t think 
they have. I could n’t see any in the canoes.” 

“Not a dog that I could see,” said I. “Prob- 
ably they won’t know a thing about it until 
morning, and we ’ll have the canoes at the fort 
by the time they find they ’re gone.” 

We knew the squaws would soon be asleep 
after their hard day’s work. When we had 
waited about an hour, we launched our canoe 
and paddled across and up the stream until 
within about two hundred yards of their camp. 

As I had suggested the capture, I was to 
take the lead. We fastened our canoe to the 
shore, and I left Herm there to catch the boats 
when I should set them adrift. Then I took off 
my clothes, and with my knife in my hand, 
crept toward the squaws’ camp. 

The night was so dark that I could hardly 
[ 88 ] 



“ A little cur sprang out ” 




HERM AND I 


tell when I was near it, except by the clump 
of willows to which they had tied the canoes. 
When I was near enough to make these out, I 
took to the water, and approached them from 
the side farthest from the camp. 

I reached the first canoe without hearing a 
sound, and was feeling along its side for the 
thong which I must cut in order to set it adrift, 
when, with a perfect torrent of yelps and 
barks, a little cur, about the size of a large cat, 
sprang out from among the blankets, almost 
in my face. 

The instant the dog struck the water, which 
was about two feet deep, I seized him with 
both hands, forced him to the bottom and held 
him there. 

I heard a commotion in the tent as the dog 
began to bark. One or two of the squaws 
seemed to come outside, but it was too dark 
for me to see them. They called to the dog. 
Not hearing any further noise from him, I 
suppose they thought he was barking at some 
[ 91 ] 


HERM AND I 


prowling animal. So they went back to their 
beds. 

I waited for some time to give them a 
chance to go to sleep again. Then I cut the 
canoe loose, and sent it floating down the 
stream close to the shore. 

Waiting a few minutes after cutting each 
one loose, to give Herm time to catch it, I sent 
the boats adrift one after another, holding 
onto the last one and floating down with it. 

I was afraid Herm might let some of them 
get past him in the darkness, but when he 
seized firmly the one to which I was holding, 
I discovered that he had secured all. 

While he had been waiting, Herm had cut 
four stout straps, about five feet long, off 
one of our deerskins. These he soaked in the 
water to make them soft and pliable, and made 
a slip-noose at both ends of each. By slipping 
these over the “nose” at the bow of one canoe 
and the stern of another, it took us but a mo- 
ment to fasten the whole five together in a 
string, with our own in the lead. 

[ 92 ] 


HERM AND I 


“That ’s pretty good so far,” whispered 
Herm, as we were getting into our clothes, 
“but I thought the game was up when I heard 
that dog bark.” 



“ The whole five in a string 


He was greatly pleased when I told him 
what stopped the dog’s barking so suddenly. 

•“Well, we ’re having some fun out of it, 
anyhow,” said he, “but we ’ve a hard night’s 
work ahead of us if we pull that string of 
canoes to the fort.” 


[ 93 ] 


HERM AND I 


“Yes, but they ’re worth it,” I replied. “I ’d 
do it just for the fun of the thing if nothing 
else.” 

We had some difficulty in getting the canoes 
out to the middle of the river, but once there 
they gave us little trouble. Following in each 
other’s wake they ran much easier than we ex- 
pected. 

It was well for us that we had had several 
days’ rest with unlimited roast beef, for pad- 
dling is not easy work, and although the 
canoes towed easily, considering the great 
weight they carried, our paddles failed to send 
us through the water at the speed we were ac- 
customed to. 

So we were not long in finding that we had, 
in getting to the fort, more of an undertaking 
than we had anticipated. 


[ 94 ] 


FUN AT THE FORT 





































































4 



















HERM AND I 


CHAPTER V 

FUN AT THE FORT 

W E could not see the banks that dark 
and rainy night as we went 
down river with our captured 
canoes, but the noise of the wind 
in the tree-tops and bushes along the shore 
enabled us to keep well in the middle. 

“Let ’s take a long, easy stroke,” said Herm ; 
“one that we can keep up till morning, for it ’s 
going to be an all night’s job. We ’ll make the 
fort all right; nobody can see or hear us with 
this wind and darkness. At the rate we are 
going, we shall reach the fort before daylight.” 

“We ’re good for it,” I responded. “I ’d 
paddle twice as far if I could just see those 
squaws when they come to look for their 
canoes in the morning. But won’t we surprise 

7 — Herm and I [97] 


HERM AND I 


them at the fort? I guess there are hundreds 
of people there besides our own folks; and 
like as not lots of these things in the canoes 
belong to some of them.” 

We talked now and then in a low tone. This, 
with the hope of soon seeing our mothers, 
brothers and sisters, and thoughts of the praise 
we should receive if we got these canoes safe 
to the fort, served to keep up our strength and 
spirits. 

We had been to the fort in the bateau half a 
dozen times, knew every turn in the river, and 
were able to tell by these where we were, al- 
though we could get but the vaguest glimpses 
of shore. The wind was in the west, and 
helped us well, except in sharp bends where 
we had to run against it. 

But it seemed as if daylight would never 
come. We were wet through with the driz- 
zling rain, and had been looking for hours for 
the great bend which the river made about 
half a mile above the fort. It was not until 
daylight began to show that we reached it. 

[ 98 ] 


HERM AND I 


We paddled harder until we were far enough 
around the bend to see the lights at the fort. 
The sentry, pacing the bank in front, had al- 
ready seen the five canoes, and supposing 
them to contain Indians, had given the alarm. 
We could see men flying about in all direc- 
tions. 

We knew they had a few small cannon, and 
were afraid they might open fire upon us; so 
we stood up, waved our caps, and shouted until 
we were hoarse. The soldiers soon saw that 
we were not Indians; and when we reached 
the landing, not only the garrison — mostly 
old men and boys — but all of the families who 
had sought shelter at the fort were on the 
bank to meet us. 

You may be sure that our mothers, my sis- 
ters and Herm’s brothers were in the front 
rank. When we were near enough to be rec- 
ognized, all began shouting and cheering. A 
dozen hands grasped each canoe the moment 
it touched the shore, and carried it up the 
bank. 


L. OF C. 

[ 99 ] 


HERM AND I 


There was more shouting as first one family, 
then another, recognized among the things 
being taken out of the canoes clothing, bed- 
ding and other household goods which had 
been stolen from their own homes. It seemed 
that the whole lot had been taken from one 
settlement, whose people had been warned so 
late that they barely had time to escape with 
their lives. 

They all crowded around to hear our story ; 
but mother, noticing our exhaustion, took us in 
charge. Leading us to the tent in which our 
two families were living, she prepared for us 
a warm breakfast and put us to sleep in the 
bed which Heim’s two brothers had vacated a 
few minutes before. We slept until noon, and 
awoke feeling not much the worse for our 
night’s exertions, except for lame backs and 
arms. 

The commanding officer had left word that 
he wished to see us as soon as we were rested. 
When we had donned clean clothes, we re- 
paired to headquarters and found that officer. 

[ 100 ] 



“ She prepared a warm breakfast ” 



HERM AND I 


He was a fat, jolly old man, and greeted us 
with great cordiality. 

“The people here have felt much anxiety on 
your account,” he said. “They were all anx- 
ious to hear how you escaped, and how you 
captured those canoes. My quarters are too 
small to accommodate the whole crowd, but if 
you will come out in the open grounds, I 'll 
call the people together to hear your story.” 

Now I was vain enough of our exploits, but 
this was more parade than I cared for. We 
could not very well refuse, however. I knew 
Herm was too modest and bashful to say a 
word before such a crowd, and that I should 
have all the talking to do. 

There were at least four hundred people at 
the fort, beside the garrison. All gathered in 
a group in front the officers' quarters to hear 
our tale. The old captain had a chair brought 
out for the speaker to stand upon, and after a 
few words of explanation, he beckoned to me 
to take the chair. 


[ 103 ] 


HERM AND I 


I could feel the color leaving my face. My 
knees shook as though I had the ague, and I 
presume I was about as badly scared as when 
we first saw those six painted Sioux coming 
after us. But I had an appreciative audience. 
They began to cheer and applaud before I 
opened my mouth. 

I was a pretty glib talker usually, and once 
I got started the laughter and cheering caused 
me to forget about myself. So I rattled on at 
a great rate. I thought the crowd would go 
wild when I told them how we robbed the 
squaws of their stolen plunder, and left them 
to swim home or go afoot, as they might pre- 
fer. 

The old captain listened to our story with as 
much interest as any one, laughed and shook 
his fat sides. I think he believed every word of 
it, but he always tried to make us think that 
he doubted some parts of the story. He never 
met us without stopping to exchange a few 
words in his rough jolly way. 

[ 104 ] 


HERM AND I 


“That ’s pretty good, boys,” he would say, 
“but don’t you really think you ought to let 
some of those Indians get away? Of course 
you killed them all, but six big Indians sounds 
rather too many, and some folks might think 
you saw double or treble. Two are a great 
plenty. If I were you, I ’d let the other four 
go, seeing you did n’t bring in their rifles.” 

Then with a burst of laughter he would turn 
on his heel. We never took offence, for his 
manner was always jovial, but we did wish we 
had brought in four more rifles, and we said so, 
which amused the old fellow greatly. 

We were too happy to sleep that first night, 
and sat up until after twelve, chatting with our 
brothers and sisters. They told us the out- 
break occurred within a week after we left 
home. A man came down the river two days 
before it happened, warning the settlers to fly 
for their lives, as he knew a band of several 
hundred Sioux warriors were camped about 
twenty miles up river. 

[ 105 ] 


HERM AND I 


So mother got the stock driven back into the 
swamp, and the bateau loaded with provisions 
and goods. She said she tried hard to make 
room for the old rocking-chair, but could not 
do so without leaving something that was nec- 
essary. 

The bateau was rigged with four oars. 
Herm’s two brothers manned two of these, 
while my two sisters, mother and Mrs. Weis- 
man took turns keeping the other two going. 
Although the craft was loaded down almost to 
the water’s edge, they contrived to reach the 
fort late that same night. 

We stayed doing garrison duty at the fort 
until late in October. Scouts were sent out in 
all directions every day to discover if Indians 
lurked in the vicinity. When Herm and I had 
the choice of going out with the teams to the 
nearest timber to bring in firewood, or of act- 
ing as scouts, we never chose to go for fuel. 

The attention we attracted when we first 
reached the fort made us somewhat conceited, 
[IOC] 


HERM AND I 


and we were probably a little too fond of re- 
lating our exploits, as most boys are likely to 
be. After a fortnight of this some of the gar- 
rison concluded to lower our dignity a little, 
and have some fun at our expense. I fancy the 
old captain was at the bottom of the affair, for 
he seemed to get more fun out of it than any 
one else. 

One day the scouts came in just before dark 
and reported fresh moccasin tracks along the 
river bank a mile above the fort. This was a 
false story arranged as part of the trap for 
Herm and me. Those in the secret manifested 
great excitement, and the captain immediately 
called for two volunteers to go up river and 
wait until after nightfall, when the Indians, if 
any were near, would be moving about, and 
enable the scouts to see if they were planning 
a night attack. 

If we had known much about Indian warfare 
we might have detected the ruse, for no pru- 
dent commander would have allowed a man to 
[ 107 ] 


HERM AND I 


leave the fort under the pretended circum- 
stances. But we never stopped to think of 
this. The practical jokers reckoned that we 
would offer our services as scouts, as we did. 

The captain accepted and told us not to take 
our guns, as it was already so dark we could 
not see to shoot accurately, but to creep up the 
river as far as we thought prudent, and hasten 
back if we sighted Indians. As soon as we 
were out of sight, two young fellows who had 
been dressed up to resemble Indians crept 
along behind us. We did not notice them until 
we reached the big bend, half a mile above the 
fort. Herm saw them first. 

“Bart !” he whispered, “don’t stop, nor don’t 
get scared, but just look over your shoulder. 
There ’s two Indians right behind us.” 

I did n’t stop, but I did get scared. 

“What shall we do, Herm ?” I inquired. 

“Keep right on until we get around the 
bend, and then make a break straight across 
for the fort.” 


[ 108 ] 


HERM AND I 


The curve in the river at this point described 
about a semicircle, and when we had got clear 
around the bend the Indians were just about 
in the middle of it. Our plan was to dash 
across the neck of land and get past them. But 
when we started to run, they whooped fiercely 
and rushed to head us off. They had much 
the shorter distance to run, and were between 
us and the fort in a twinkling. 

We knew no two Indians would be prowling 
so near the fort by themselves. We expected 
to see their comrades spring up on every side 
when the two yelled. Our only hope was to get 
back to the fort, and regardless of conse- 
quences we dashed straight at the pair. 

When we turned to run I picked up a poplar 
stick about the size of a baseball bat. Herm 
could not find even a club, but we were both 
desperate and felt that strength which comes 
to men when they feel that their lives are at 
stake. 

The “Indians” acted queerly, but we did not 
[ 109 ] 


HERM AND I 


think what this might signify. They stood 
squarely in our path, waving their arms and 
yelling like madmen. We thought they were 
calling their comrades as we rushed upon 
them. 

I swung my club and made for one of them. 
He threw off his blanket, and with a loud 
laugh, turned to jump out of my way. I saw 
he was a white man too late to stop my club, 
which took him across the shoulders with a 
great “whack,” and sent him sprawling on the 
ground. I began to laugh, then, at the joke, 
but Herm was not so amiable. 

His temper, not easily aroused, was, when 
once excited, very hard to quiet. I think he 
saw the joke before I did, but he had been 
much frightened, and when he understood the 
trick, his fright turned to anger. He made for 
his man with a fierce shout. 

I presume he thought he had done enough 
genuine fighting to be spared such an attempt 
to make him ridiculous. At any rate he “pum- 
meled” the man with all his strength. 

[ 110 ] 


HERM AND I 


“Hold on! Hold on! I ’m no Indian!” the 
fellow shouted. But down he went, with 
Herm on top, raining blows upon his prostrate 
form. 



“Indian or no Indian, take that! and that! 
and that !” he shouted. I don’t know when he 
would have stopped if I had not recovered from 
my laughing fit and pulled him off. 

[Ill] 



HERM AND I 


Herm’s “Indian” was a sorry-looking ob- 
ject when we got back to the fort. His nose 
was still bleeding, and both eyes were swollen 
until they were almost closed. 

Of course every man and boy in the fort was 
watching for our return. The garrison had 
expected that we would take to the river or 
stay out in the woods half the night for fear of 
the two “Indians.” Great was the amazement 
when we marched both in as prisoners. 

“Here *s your Indians!” Herm shouted, as 
we gave them a shove toward a group which 
contained the captain. 

Such shouts of derision as greeted those 
wretched jokers! The one who suffered most 
was called nothing but “Herm’s Indian” as 
long as he stayed at the fort. 

There we waited until late in the fall, when 
the military forces had driven the savages far 
from the settlements, so that the people could 
return to their homes in safety. 

We had rigged a sail for the bateau, and 
[ 112 ] 


HERM AND I 


took advantage of a good breeze up-stream to 
start for home. Thanks to that old bateau, 



“ Thanks to that old bateau ” 


mother had been able to save nearly all of our 
household goods except the furniture. We 
had now two canoes, our own and one of those 
[ 113 ] 


8 — Herm and I 


HERM AND 1 


we captured, loaded with provisions that had 
been allotted to us from the supplies which the 
people of cities and towns farther east had sent 
to the relief of the raided settlements. 

Mother and the girls cried not a little when 
we first came in sight of the old place; but 
thankful to get back alive, we all set at work 
with a will to put things in shape for the 
winter. We built a long, low log house, with 
two rooms below and a loft'above for us boys 
to sleep in, so that one house might do for both 
families that winter. 

We found all the stock alive and in fair con- 
dition. Our hay had been all burned, and 
most of the grass near the settlements had 
been burned off by the Sioux. But by going 
several miles up the river to the marsh we cut 
several tons of coarse, dry, nutritious grass, 
and brought it home in the bateau. It was not 
very good hay, but would do to winter a few of 
the best cows upon. 

We had to keep one yoke of steers for our 
[ 114 ] 


HERM AND I 


hauling. The rest of the stock we drove to the 
fort and sold. Beef was very high, and re- 
ceived a good price. So we had money enough 
to buy a year’s provisions, and seed grain and 
farming implements when spring came. 

Of course we missed our regular trapping 
trip that fall, but we trapped around home all 
winter, and with the twenty-five dollars each 
which we received for the captured Indian 
rifles, we were not much out of pocket by fore- 
going our sport. 

We had no school that winter. Herm and 
I spent all of our time, except two days each 
week which we devoted to our traps, in getting 
out timber for a barn and for fences. For the 
next two or three years we had to work very 
hard to repair the damage the Sioux had done 
us. 

Sometimes, indeed, we thought we had too 
much to do and that our lot in life was a hard 
one. But it was just that hard work, and being 
obliged, as we were, to rely wholly upon our 
[ 115 ] 


HERM AND I 


own resources, that made men of us, and de- 
veloped in us a faculty of recognizing oppor- 
tunities, and being able to take advantage of 
them, which has been of great value to us all 
our days. 


The End. 


[ 116 ] 


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